Dark Shadows (16 page)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Madame du Pont’s carriage raced through her property’s grounds, curtains closed; she and Parker were inside, holding on for dear life as the carriage and two drivers swayed precariously round the tight bends on the road.

Madame du Pont was cursing the world, yet she was also displaying a rare vulnerability. Intermittent sobs caught her breath in between her swear words. Her face was as white as chalk, her body trembled, and she absently wrung her hands together.

The carriage driver and co-driver headed straight to the docks at a gallop, per Madame du Pont’s instructions. When they approached the entrance, they slowed, entered the dockyard’s main gates, and parked in a dark, secluded spot near the ticket offices, which remained open all night.

Madame du Pont was now silent and unwilling to engage in any conversation with her servant. Her mind was racing. Every time Parker spoke, she raised her hand to silence her.

Du Pont truly believed that America was her best option now. She had always fancied America. It had been her choice ever since the day she first thought about her retirement. The New World seemed to be a more civilised country than the others she’d considered. She could not contemplate the likes of Australia, which would be filled with penal colonies and hordes of crooks and criminals.

No. For her, America was the place to be. The gentlemen from the Southern states had always impressed her with their manners and ardent displays of respect for her whores. She deserved to have respect now, not as a madam but as a lady, and she had enough money to buy it. She hoped Eddie would remember exactly what she’d told him about booking the tickets for a big Southern port. He could be a bit scatty at times, and knowing him, she would end up in bloody Boston.

As she sat inside the carriage waiting for him, she wondered if her orders had been carried out to the letter. The house would be in cinders by now, no doubt. Coppers, firefighters, and officials would be crawling all over it. She not only wanted to go to America; she needed to get on a bloody ship going there at once. She was
not
going to be found and forced to answer bothersome questions of any kind about her home and the burned corpses of her whores.

They would be found, of course; there was no getting around that. She could only hope that the women had caught fire quickly and that their bodies would be unrecognisable. The idea of even one surviving scared her to death. She tried to look for a positive outcome, even though her optimistic outlook had been replaced by despair. She would never have to put her feet on English soil again.

She thought about her house in London; she also had plans for that. The house was in a fine location and was worth far too much money to ignore or leave unsold. Its future would now have to be addressed.

It had been quite the day – a day that had begun with promise but had ended in disaster. All that mattered now was getting on a ship and getting the bloody hell off this island. She glanced at Parker. The woman was loyal, but she was going to have to test that loyalty to its limits as soon as passage on a ship had been secured.

Madame du Pont’s disposition was one of nervous anticipation tinged with concern and annoyance. Eddie had still not arrived at their designated meeting point. She had no idea what could be taking him so long. She had given him strict instructions. He knew she would be worried.
It’s bloody inconsiderate of him to dally like this,
she thought angrily.

More time passed. She wanted to stretch her legs. The docks were quiet, but there were hundreds of people sleeping on the docks’ narrow streets and in front of warehouses. She was safe inside her carriage. It would be folly to even step outside it. The drivers had a rifle and pistol and would shoot anyone who threatened her. Still, she was carrying a great deal of money on her person, not to mention the leather valise, which was filled with gold and sitting next to her. It was a massive fortune built up over the years for an occasion such as this. Her hard-earned money would bring her luxuries and security. It was far too dangerous to step outside with all these ignorant immigrants running around. Thieves spent their time patiently waiting for the likes of her. Christ, if she lost her money to any one of them, she’d be finished.

She heard the sound of running footsteps getting closer and then heard Eddie’s voice, identifying himself to the drivers. Her body relaxed, and she sighed with relief. She would find out what had happened, and then she could, she hoped, put her mind at rest and the past behind her. Eddie had not disappointed her after all.

The knock on the carriage door stirred excitement instead of the earlier apprehension that had unnerved her to the core. “Get in here, Eddie,” she whispered softly through the closed window curtain.

Eddie opened the door, stepped into the carriage, and closed the door behind him. He had a flushed face and was perspiring, panting like a hunting dog and smoothing down his damp hair.

Madame du Pont’s keen eyes captured Eddie’s expression and thoughts. People were like open books, and she never missed a trick. She looked at his nervous and scared posture for a moment and then spoke. “Eddie, tell me it went well. Tell me you didn’t cock it up.”

Eddie shifted nervously.

“Tell me they’re all dead – out with it!”

“I’m sorry, madam. The whores got away. I was interrupted by a couple of those American buggers who were intent on freeing them,” Eddie told her with downcast eyes.

“How many got away, exactly?” she asked him with an icy stare.

“All of them – and Sam. They got him. They had guns. They were going to kill me, so I ran. I didn’t even have time to get my horse. Look at the state of me! We need to get on the ship as fast as we can—”

“I know that, you bloody fool! What do you think I’m doing, sitting here for my own bleedin’ pleasure?”

“I know you’re desperate to get on, and I’ve sorted it – it’s done. America. We’re going to Norfolk, Virginia. I got one first-class cabin like you asked and one in steerage. There; that’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“Good, that’s good, but I want on right now. Did you sort
that
?” she asked him. “I don’t want to wait until morning, not with whores running around, thanks to your incompetence. You’re a dozy git sometimes, Eddie Gunn! You tell that ticket master that I don’t care how much it costs. Bribe him till he can’t say no, if you have to. Go – get it done. Bring the ticket master back with you and tell him I want his personal escort to the ship. Christ almighty, Eddie, thanks to you, all those bitches are running around Liverpool like headless chickens, spilling their guts and telling tales on me.”

Eddie nodded whilst opening the door and stepping down. “I’m sorry. I’ll make this right, I promise. I’ll be back in a jiffy. Just stay put and don’t get out of the carriage. I’ll be five minutes.”

Up until now, Parker had remained silent, but her anger was clearly evident. “Have we got to share a cabin, then?” she asked. “I was supposed to get my own first-class ticket. What’s going on here?”

Madame du Pont stared at Parker with eyes no wider than slits. “Watch it, you. Who do you think you’re talking to, ya cheeky mare? Did you think it would be all right for you to get the same as me, as if you’re my bloody equal? I’m the one to have the best cabin, not you.”

Parker stopped panting with anger, took a deep breath, and leaned over, bringing her face inches from Madame du Pont’s angry glare. Her expression was, as always, cold and impassive. “Now you listen to me,
madam.
You’ve forgotten after all these years of playing queen bee to all and sundry that I’m your bloody sister.”

Madam du Pont opened her mouth.

“No, you don’t get to speak. Shut your mouth and keep it shut. You’re going to listen to me for a change,” Parker blazed. “That’s right. You’ve been so consumed by your own self-importance all these years that you’ve forgotten that I’m your elder by two years. You should be showing
me
some bloody respect.

“Well, Margaret, I’ve kept your secret for long enough, and there’ll be no more
madam
coming from my lips. Our new identity papers say Margaret and Myrtle Mallory. It’s our father’s name – our real names, at last. Parker is dead, and so is your Madame du bloody Pont!

“You’re not my mistress, you never were, and I finally deserve the pickings of my labour just as much as you. There’s no more brothel, no more French accent – it’s over! From now on, you’ll give me my due.”

She moved in even closer. “We
are
equals, and this equality starts right now.”

“I know that, Myrtle. Everything is different now. I agree that we’re equal, with equal money and status, but there is something you have to do now. ”

“No, there’s bloody not!” Myrtle hissed back. “I have my own money to do with what I please. We agreed right from the start that when our venture ended, you would stop bloody bossing me around. So I don’t need to do anything else for you.”

Myrtle looked at the valise. “And another thing: I want a cut of that gold there in the bag that I had to carry onto the carriage. I deserve it, and I’m going to have it just as soon as we land in America. It’s only right, and you know it. I worked hard in that mansion. Your bed was bigger than the room I slept in. I slaved for you and never told anyone who I really was because I promised you I wouldn’t. But no more, do you hear?”

Myrtle sat back and stared long and hard at her younger sister, whose face had turned a cherry red. Margaret’s lips moved, but no sound came from her mouth.

“Are we clear,
Margaret Mallory
?” Myrtle said for good measure.

“Yes, we’re clear, but Christ, I’ve just watched my whole life go up in bloody flames. Can you not give me some time to grieve?”

“It was my life too – what life I had.”

“Why didn’t you speak up sooner if you were so unhappy? You could have left whenever you wanted to.” Madame du Pont pouted moodily.

“Leave? Why the hell should I have left when half the business is – was – mine. I put up with you because you have the better business head and you seemed to enjoy killing young women. But you need to forget who you were and think now about who you’re going to be. That’s what I’m going to do the minute we get on that bloody ship and I take off this uniform for the last time.”

Madame du Pont lowered her eyes to hide her rage. She felt like strangling her own sister to shut her up. No one had dared speak to her like that for nearly two decades. Myrtle was her elder sister, but she had no brains to speak of. She’d always been as thick as the pig shit on the farm they used to live on. She’d still be living on that farm, milking cows, if it weren’t for her. Myrtle was an ugly bitch into the bargain, and she would never have found a husband to keep her. Christ, even their father had agreed with her on that point before he died.

There was silence. Madame du Pont, now this new Margaret, looked down at her hands fidgeting on her lap. Myrtle was right. She did deserve a retirement, but she would still have to work for it.

“Myrtle, I need to say something. I agree that there is no more Madame du Pont. That name will never be mentioned again. She went up in flames with Parker. Does that suit you?”

Myrtle nodded her head victoriously.

“It’s going to take time for me to adjust, but from now on, I’m just plain Margaret Mallory. You’re right; we have to look to the future now and put Liverpool and the whorehouse behind us.”

“Exactly right,” Myrtle said.

“You know, we’ve been lucky. We played with the devil for more than fourteen years, and we both came out unscathed, without losing our souls.”

Myrtle laughed.

“What’s that laugh for?” Margaret asked her.

“When have you ever had a soul? You were a soulless bitch from the day you was born. You loved killing and beating those girls.”

“So what? You loved watching me do it to them! Anyway, that’s all over with. We’ve got more important matters to discuss right now.”

“And what might they be?” Myrtle asked, forever suspicious of her sister.

“We’re going to a port called Norfolk, Virginia – that is, me and Eddie are going.”

“What the bloody hell do you mean by you and Eddie?”

“We’ll find a nice small country house with a big garden, and we’ll get ourselves some of those nigger slaves they’ve got over there,” Margaret said, ignoring Myrtle’s question.

“Answer me, Margaret. What do you mean, you and Eddie? What about me? You’re not thinking about leaving me here, are you? You wouldn’t dare!”

Margaret’s eyes widened and displayed just the right amount of hurt. “No, of course not. I’d never leave you here, you daft bat! You’re going to London, to Knightsbridge.”

“What?”

“Myrtle, listen to me. We have a house there that’s worth a lot of money. We’re going to have to sell it because we’re never coming back to this bloody island. You can have more than me out of the proceeds – sixty-forty in your favour. You’ve got two men here to take you when they drop me off at the ship.”

“Get lost, Margaret. I’m getting on that ship, even if I have to fight you for your bloody cabin!” Myrtle raged.